As a daughter I grew up thinking my legacy was not enoughness, and the seeking of the restoration to enoughness was daily curriculum. Through my mythology, my original god vision- mother god father god, I would read the room, to see whether I had fulfilled enoughness. Had the gods calmed down, arrived in pure presence, into their own fulfilment? The indicator for this would have been for me to feel loved, I thought.
When I became a mama, my legacy as a daughter continued to evolve. I thought devotion and obedience would break the spell of not enoughness. It was an organic movement born of what birthed in me as Naia birthed through me. I became embodied of devotion.
What about obedience? Obedience is a charged word that I find beautiful. Obedience is joyful submission to the given instruction. For example, I joyfully submit to the given instruction most mornings during meditation. Or when I do extended fasts. In the first minutes, moments, hours, days and weeks of being a mama to Naia, amidst the holy unbounded experience of the new, the sacred, sweet, reverent, touch, tones, terrain of she and I in sunlit winter solstice, indoors, except when I walked with her, everywhere, bundled, in my front pack, or back, or strolling along, walking 2 miles gleefully to dance class, insistent that she be the inheritor of all that drummed up belonging to earth and tribe and muse—it was liberating relief what occurred in that space of she and I, the simple command inviting obedience to the, what next? What did Naia need? A diaper change, a warm breast, connection through the eyes, connection through the heart, through song, through presence, that simple question, what next, what now was everything. And the narrowing and laser like focus of being born a mama and learning obedience as a sacred rite was everything. Because what I needed was the relief of sucking the mundane out of the corners and crevices of societal unremebrance. I needed to take care of Naia. I needed to heed life. To be the all of me. The power I felt in giving life and then giving over to life was a tribute to wholeness. I needed remembrance. I experienced obedience as a quality of devotion. There were 3 things, really, born in me then in the hours days weeks and months I was born a mama, that became integrated into my legacy building as a daughter: obedience, devotion and a majestic natural, instinctive leadership.
Before I was a mama, leadership was activated on stages where I got to occupy center light, be the instrument for full feeling to express and also the instrumental-ist, director, conductor, the rallying voice for tribe to unite in muse. In my family of origin there was resistance and relentless trauma that made leading dangerous. Dangerous to be seen or heard. When Naia made me a mama, life became the stage and my confidence grew.
So, in the sacred rite of birth and being born mama, I evolved tenderly in leadership, a fierce tenderness, and amidst all the spaces that that became expressed, I also re led myself to my parents, witnessed them become anointed as grandparents. The generosity of spirit and forgiveness that anointed me through my own command (which sounded like "I command my brain, body, heart, and spirit to forgive my parents and their trespasses) allowed me to give them space with their grandchildren and my god did they ever fill it. As I witnessed their grand and generous rapport with my children, I reveled and summoned greater devotion and obedience to it all, to life, to them, to ancestors and truly, to my children. What would you think if I told you I saw each of my SoulSeeds as young gurus and devotion and obedience grew and grew and grew and grew and not fully realizing all the while I sought confirming evidence in my legacy as a daughter of this, "Now there will be enoughness." I will feel it and the parents will see it in me and they will say it. I will hear it through their words. And, we will all become inheritors of great fortunes; the currency of love that signals I am a daughter, and I am enough.
When my father died, I noticed right away that there had been a great mythology between he and I that we had both participated in positioning there, in the ancestral ether of his not enoughness and my subconscious agreement to tend it.
When my not uncomplicated father transitioned, there were lots and lots and lots of things, miraculous things, connections, awakenings, the presence of my 4 kids dedicating the next movements of our love symphony, and amidst all the living, as my dad did such an amazing job at dying, I eventually not too long after, exhaled a long breath and said, "Enough. I am enough. You are enough." It's funny, because when Naia saw written in my signature deep red lipstick on my bedroom mirror, "You are enough" she said, "That's not enough, Mama. You're more than enough!"
So, enoughness became more than enoughness and as my mama self grew and evolved and my woman self did too, my daughter self, the daughter that I am looked into the eyes of her ancestors and her mom and dad and momPam and knew that her legacy was love and that the love was not only, as Naia said, more than enough, it is everything I am made for and it restored the inheritor of legacy that I was and am, to a place of abiding wholeness. Because when you love beyond lovelessness, beyond rage, beyond betrayal and bloody suicide and raping and iv drug use and madness and all the micro moments that surrounded those sorts of bold traumas that I really did endure on the daily, you get to be the inheritor of wisemind and compassion and agape and I kid you not this is not imagination, this is experience, you get to be the inheritor of the gods who you are the daughter of, and the mother of, and who are the divine enduring proportions of mom and dad and mompam and all benevolent ancestors who write me now.
And so, my legacy as a young mother- obedience, devotion and leadership that expressed on select stages- becoming life is the stage, led me to my more than enoughness legacy as a daughter who loves beyond and through it all.
And so what of my legacy as a mother? It's still forming, thank god, a celestial mouth out of the underworld pronouncement of all life, nourishing my voice there and also there, the brahma chakra the abiding enlightenment, the pure luminous essence. And very much here, in this body, this Divine blood, loving as if there were no cognizance of what had been given or what it had taken in the past for me to simply be alive. Loving that receives its joy and maintains its balance by the continual outpouring of itself.
I know how important it is to take very, very good care of myself. But again, and I kid you not and this is not imagination solely, it is experience surely, the continual outpouring of love is my highest excitement. It is being quenched in devotion. It is obedience to surrender that is exalted in freedom and joy and leading me, abidingly so, simultaneously, to remembrance and becoming. Leading me to experience life. To unbounded sensory revelation.
It feels lacking for me to presume my legacy as a mama. On life's stage where my performance for the past 34 years has first and foremost been primarily focused on being mama to 4 plus 2 young sages, I am confident that I have really, certainly, categorically done the things, the deeds, the life, the labor, the calling, the charge, the Mata mission: offered my voice and arms, hands and heart, my soft and strong body to oceanic acts of love, millions of moments in devotion to them, who are truly epic, wonderful, shining, capable, beautiful, decent and loving human beings- confident I've delivered the goods through millions of moments, supplied the holding on, the letting go, the reassurances, nourishing food, home, warm hugs, wood stove for gazing, remembrance and unfettered dreaming- Liberated loneliness to constancy of family, of the hallowed team, the poetic people, the unique, authentic ones, the band of ancients, the ones we've all been waiting for- supplied listening to the deep, depth of each child, every each one receiving the deep transport that listening bestows, have summoned the good, the glad and glorious through affirmative responding, have hummed, and whistled and crooned their honors- have done the nighttime things, the bedtime rituals, the massages, and giggles, sacred whispers, making blankets and bedtime shelter inside of the darkest dark- have led adventures, inviting their spirits to discoveries, to love Earth, to love travel, to love difference and to know with certainty, that unity and belonging are what's true, are solutions to the rampant man-conspired distortions I tried with everything I am to protect them from, with every bone that builds me, with every muscle proclaiming my womanity, assigned to protecting each child from forgetting divine positioning and to staying connected to goodness. I've guided them to more oceans than one, to more countries than two, to more states than 30. Have fought for them, for justice, for their futures, their education, for their rites, for their innocence, to be flourishing, prospering, brimming with courage. And what about pain? Betrayals? Trauma? Through acts of relentless communion conveyed, you are not defined by this. It's what comes next, out of your spark, the flame of your inner being that matters even more. And until then, I'll hold your feelings alongside you, right here. I'll feel them with you.
My legacy as a mama is evolving. I'll leave it to my gurus. My sages. My SoulSeeds to convey. But also this: I have danced with, alongside, behind, in front of, around and around, each of them, my children. I insisted. I said, there will be dancing, there will be rhythm and pulsing, drums clarion calling our call to life, our exhilaration. There will be tribe, and it will be part of all our legacy, devotion to earth and sky.
My children proclaim "we don't think our mama believed in the raising of us because she asserted we were born already so majestically risen. So instead, our mama danced us".
Ah, how multitudes of laughter, rhythms, feet and eyes, spine and sweat, hands and hair, shape shift to gods, carry angelic youth, crown the good, the glad, the glory, all sealed and aligned on mount oneness.
Thank god. Thank the waters of devotion. Thank surrender that is exalted in freedom and leading me, simultaneously, to the significance of mother. Leading me to experience her. The I am. To unbounded sensory revelation. To the life force that increases when enougness, worth, more than enoughness is unleashed. Thank goddess and ancestors. Thank Gaia and the stars.
To arrive at the overflow out of the distortion of not enough. Maybe my legacy is courage. The courage to tell my whole and broken and whole and broken and mata hearted story.
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